Yesterday we had to let Bo, one of our blind Appaloosas, go to the big green pastures in the sky. In the past two months he had suddenly started losing weight dramatically, and blood work showed his kidney and liver values were screwed up. A follow-up urinalysis revealed ketones, meaning he was now using up his own body fat reserves. Clearly, something else was competing for the nutrition he was getting — and winning. Our equine vet, Dr. Steve Levine, sent Bo's test results to an internal medicine specialist at New England Equine Medical and Surgical Center in southern New Hampshire for consultation. The medical consensus was that he most likely had a tumor of some sort, though based on the lab work we didn't know specifically what kind. Whatever it was, it was aggressive.
The problems quickly mounted. His immune system became suppressed, his skin and hair deteriorated (flies took advantage of that situation and would cling to him no matter how much fly spray we applied, even while leaving the other horses alone), and — alarmingly — we could actually hear his bones creak when he turned his neck or walked. Alayne described him as "brittle," which was probably the most apt way to put it.
After weeks of trying to turn things around, we sadly realized it was time to let him go, and yesterday morning Dr. Levine came out to euthanize him. Our neighbor and friend, Jim D., had already come over with his excavator to dig a grave.
In the photo above, you can see just how thin Bo was, with his ribs sticking out. Kate walked Bo's girlfriend blind Rosie out to keep him company right up until the end.
In this photo Dr. Levine is beginning to inject the euthanasia solution while I hold Bo:
Bo always loved gobbling the apples that fell from the trees around the horse paddocks, so I scooped up a few before we set out for the gravesite and gave him some as a final treat just before Dr. Levine began the procedure. I'd like to think that Bo's very last sensation was the taste of those apples in his mouth.
In a ritual that our equine vet in Montana, Dr. Erin Taylor, had encouraged us to adopt, after Bo died we brought Rosie over to be close to him and sniff his body. Erin believed, and we think she's right, that it helps bring closure for these animals who become bonded with one another. Rather than wonder why Bo suddenly disappeared and never came back, Rosie could smell his prone body and know that he was gone:
Earlier, just before that shot, Rosie had been gently running her muzzle over Bo's ribs, gently nibbling at his hair and feeling his body. Then she raised her head and sniffed and sniffed some more. In all, maybe only a minute or two elapsed, but I could tell she knew he had died … and she was ready to move on. We had noticed in the past week that she was responding to him, and treating him, differently, and we figured she must have known something was very wrong with him.
Kate and I walked Rosie back down to the horse paddocks and turned her out with blind Bridger and blind Nikki. She found them, put her head down, and settled in to graze.
—
Thank you so much! We just won $1,000 for getting the most votes in week 3 of the Shelter Challenge!
The current Shelter Challenge started on July 4th and ends at midnight on September 18th. Grand prize in this round is $5,000, plus $1,000 for weekly winners and $1,000 for state winners. There are also other categories … please see the Shelter Challenge website for details.
And remember, you can vote every day, so consider bookmarking the voting page to make it easy.
You can vote in the Shelter Challenge here.
Please note: Use Rolling Dog Ranch for our name and NH for the state and our listing will come up. [Yes, we are still listed as Rolling Dog Ranch for the purposes of the contest, not Rolling Dog Farm.]
Because of your votes, we just won $1,000 as a weekly winner in the last Shelter Challenge. Please help us win more money for the animals here by voting every day, and by encouraging your family, friends and colleagues to vote every day, too. Thank you!
Rolling Dog Farm Blog 
Leave a reply to Ann Cancel reply